No Man's Land
by Danzinora Switch
Summary: On stardate 5248.9, three Federation ships entered the Neutral Zone for exploration purposes. The Enterprise crew is distraught at McCoy's transfer to another of these ships, but this may just be the first step in a long web of deadly conspiracy...
1. Illogical

**A/N: Well, let's see how this will turn out. I don't own Star Trek through this entire story. Let the lies and twists commence.**

* * *

**Official notice of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets with the Romulan Empire:**

**Diplomatic negotiations reached a compromise on stardate 5104.6 concerning the Neutral Zone between the Federation and Romulan Empire. All ships must respect the new parameters: the Neutral Zone remains in full effect for all ships except those of exploratory nature. Repeat: only exploratory ships of both the Federation and Romulan Empire are now allowed into the Neutral Zone for exploration and scientific purposes. All other ships will be subject to severe punishment from both governments if found violating the Neutral Zone. If a Federation juggernaut or battle cruiser, or a Romulan Warbird or Blackhawk is found within the Neutral Zone, it will be considered an act of war. Federation starships and Romulan Birds of Prey are permitted within the region due to their extensive scientific equipment. There shall be NO CONFLICT between the Federation and Romulan ships while in the Neutral Zone. Any hostile actions between Romulan and Federation ships will be considered an unprovoked attack and, as such, an act of war. The far edges of the Neutral Zone shall be respected and no ship is to cross into the opposite territory. Any act of a Federation ship crossing into Romulan space, or Romulan ship crossing into Federation space, will be considered a breach of borders and be treated according to the jurisdiction of the space the ship is in (Romulans will be handled according to Federation law, the Federation members will be handled according to Romulan law). This is signed by the Federation president and board members as well as the Romulan Praetor and High Council. Until further notice, the Neutral Zone is open to exploration.**

**Effective stardate 5104.6**

* * *

"Admiral, this is outrageous!" Kirk fumed. "On what grounds-"

"On the grounds that three ships will be entering the Neutral Zone for exploration and, as such, we will need to spread our resources across those ships," Admiral Jason Harbinger drummed.

"'Spread resources'? That's your excuse?" Kirk leaned forward. "You do realize that we're talking about human beings."

"Captain Kirk," Harbinger said, no longer bothering with the runaround of protests and reasons. "I have approved the _Apache_'s request and the decision is final. Tell your Chief Medical Officer to start packing for transfer to the _Apache_ and prepare your crew to receive a new CMO." The transmission ended, from Harbinger's end. Kirk didn't even have the satisfaction of cutting it himself.

Kirk gritted his teeth and the next thing he knew there was a formidable dent in the desk and his hand hurt like crazy. He stared at it blankly for a few seconds before the throbbing shook him out of it. With a mighty sigh, he turned and headed for Sickbay.

Transfer his Chief Medical Officer! Now? It made no sense, and Kirk always hated it when the only reasons Starfleet Command would give for doing something was 'because I outrank you and I said so'.

The doors swooshed open and he walked through. Nurses and orderlies milled about, some attending to a couple patients, most chatting with each other. Inwardly, he smiled. It was always a good sign when Sickbay wasn't busy. The _Enterprise_ had been on calm, routine missions lately.

Nurse Chapel spotted him and walked over. "Hello, Captain." She glanced down at his hand. "Alright, what happened?"

"I hit something," he said quietly. He gave an apologetic smile.

"I feel sorry for whatever it was you hit," she remarked, crossing to retrieve some tools. Kirk recognized a dermal regenerator and a bone knitter.

"Now, this is going to numb your hand so that you won't feel the bones reset," Chapel soothed, pushing a hypospray against his wrist.

As she spoke Dr. McCoy stepped out of his office. He walked over to them and quietly said "Thanks, Chris, I'll take it from here."

"Sure, Doctor," she replied, though her eyes read that she knew something was up. McCoy was rarely that soft-spoken.

McCoy finished fixing Kirk's hand, who flexed it as the feeling returned. "Thanks." Kirk took a deep breath and braced himself. "Bones…"

"I already know, Jim."

"You do?" Kirk backtracked.

McCoy nodded. "I got a message this morning. It wouldn't say why, though."

At that Kirk got angry all over again. "Some excuse about 'spreading resources' among the ships entering the Neutral Zone day after tomorrow. As I understand it, you're going to the _Apache_, which is sending us its Chief Medical Officer."

McCoy nodded again. "Dr. Carter. Never met him. He's done some pretty remarkable work with aquatic creatures."

"Yes, well." Kirk let out a long sigh. "He won't replace you."

"No one can replace anyone, Jim." McCoy started putting the supplies away.

There was a moment of silence between them. "Bones," Kirk tried. "I'm sorry." It came out as a whisper.

McCoy walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you could." He looked pointedly at Kirk's fingers. "And busted a hand in the process."

Kirk choked on a harsh laugh. "You should see the desk."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow. "Do I _want_ to see the desk?"

Kirk acknowledged probably not and they shared a laugh. Afterwards they took a break to eat lunch together. Before Starfleet would take that away.

* * *

Spock often found illogical decisions within Starfleet Command and other branches of the Federation (what else could one expect in a society with a lot of humans and other illogical creatures?). Yet as he studied the transfer orders for Dr. McCoy, he found that he could not logically make sense of them. The reasons were fraught with holes, and there was no spectacular instance resulting in a transfer, either as punishment or a commendation. Granted, while McCoy had a record of borderline insubordination, it tended to cultivate more answers than problems.

Spock was baffled.

On the day the transfer was taking place he stopped by the doctor's quarters. A buzzer ring and 'come in' later he was standing just inside the door as McCoy finished gathering his bags. There weren't many. Only one standard Starfleet suitcase sat on the bed. Next to it was a small, black satchel. McCoy glanced up at him.

"Hello, Spock."

"Hello, Doctor." Spock remained where he was, silent. McCoy loaded his last item into the bag- the framed picture of Joanna he always kept on his desk. With it in place just so, he turned to the Vulcan.

"Well, don't be a stranger, Spock. You need something?"

Spock shifted. "I am… aware of your transfer, Doctor," he said slowly.

McCoy measured him with a level gaze. "Most people are."

"I find it," Spock hesitated. "A very illogical move."

McCoy continued to gaze at him. "Spock," he said. "You know that my transfer is to 'spread the resources' across the ships entering the Neutral Zone."

"The _Enterprise_, the _Justice_ and the _Apache_," Spock recited.

"Right." McCoy crossed his arms. "If Starfleet is truly 'spreading the resources' across these ships, then how come the switch between Dr. Carter and myself is the only transfer on record?"

At this, Spock raised an eyebrow. "This is true," he noted.

"Good. I thought those Vulcan brains of yours would catch on." McCoy picked up his luggage.

"What precisely are you suggesting, Doctor?" Spock clarified.

McCoy shrugged and stopped in front of him. The nonchalance was offset by the serious look he directed at Spock. "Only that something may be rotten in Denmark. You and Jim had better keep an eye out. And while we're all in the Neutral Zone," McCoy moved past him. "Better keep two eyes out."

* * *

Scotty absolutely hated it whenever a good crewman got transferred (unless it was by request for something better, not that one could do much better than the _Enterprise_). Seeing McCoy leave was probably the worst. The doctor had seemed very thoughtful, despite the heartfelt handshake and quip 'you better watch yourself closely, Scotty. I won't be there to patch you up every time something goes wrong.' Then he'd walked up to his things on the transporter pad and beamed over. Kirk had let out such a sigh that Scotty pretended he hadn't noticed.

Then he beamed over Dr. Carter.

The man was about McCoy's age, though maybe a year or two older and had more grey hair. Quaint glasses perched on his nose and he seemed very cheerful and agreeable. He and the captain exchanged pleasantries, though while Dr. Carter's were genuine Scotty could tell when Kirk was only putting on a polite show. The doctor's laughing and upbeat character was almost the polar opposite of McCoy's somewhat surly, straightforward mood.

When everyone left the transporter room Scotty sighed. Somehow, he mused tracing a hand over the beloved console, the _Enterprise_ didn't quite feel the same without McCoy.

He indulged in the melancholy for only a few minutes. Then he straightened and marched smartly for Engineering. He had a ship to prepare for the Neutral Zone.

* * *

**Danger is coming. But the question is, danger for whom?**


	2. Not the Same

**A/N: Guh, conspiracies are about as hard to write as mysteries. While I feel that most of this chapter is meh fluff-stuff, it does raise some beginning questions and clues. Thus, I feel that this is both superfluous and necessary (and yes, I know those really don't work in the same sentence and that they sort of cancel each other out, but oh well). I hope y'all like it!**

* * *

McCoy materialized into the _Apache's_ transporter room and looked around. It was almost identical to the _Enterprise's_. He picked up his suitcase and stepped off the platform.

"Welcome aboard, Doctor McCoy," a smiling man said. He had dashing dark hair and glittering eyes. He carried an air of authority like Kirk, only differently. While Kirk wore his authority as a reserved muscle, willing to use it when needed (or allowing enemies a peak at his power), this captain held it as a tool. McCoy couldn't figure out just what he would use that tool for just yet.

"I'm Captain Brahms," he introduced. They shook hands, and Brahms turned to the man next to him. The stiff posture and emotionless face clued McCoy in long before the greenish skin and pointed ears. This man was a Vulcan.

"This is my first officer, Saolos." Saolos inclined his head in greeting. McCoy returned the gesture, murmuring "First Officer."

Considering Spock's success on the _Enterprise_, more Vulcans were joining Starfleet and excelling. McCoy was not surprised to see another Vulcan XO.

"Well, Doctor," Brahms said, clasping his hands. "This may not be the _Enterprise_ but we've still got state-of-the-art facilities and a few other tricks up our sleeves. A proper tour will have to wait, however, as we are still in the process of preparing for the Neutral Zone."

"Of course," McCoy acknowledged.

"Saolos here can show you to your quarters and Sickbay; I'm sure you'll want to drop your things off and get acquainted with your new working assignment."

"Indeed," he replied, if slightly stonily.

Brahms excused himself for the bridge and McCoy picked up his suitcase again while readjusting his satchel. Saolos did not offer to carry anything.

"If you will follow me, Doctor," Saolos said, then walked crisply out of the room. McCoy hurried after him.

"Your quarters," Saolos announced when they arrived. McCoy peered in. They didn't look all that different. He dropped his luggage inside the door and faced Saolos. "Okay, so where's Sickbay?"

The Vulcan did not comment on his choice to not unpack. Instead, he simply turned and walked on through the corridor. A few halls later and they arrived at Sickbay's main entrance. McCoy was grateful; at least his quarters were on the same deck.

"Doctor, I shall leave you to explore and get acquainted," Saolos said suddenly. "I must return to my post on the bridge."

"Oh, well, then it was nice meeting you."

The quip fell flat as Saolos merely turned and left.

McCoy huffed. "Well, _that's_ a friendly personality," he grumbled to himself. There was a giggle from behind him. He turned and saw a lovely red-headed girl blushing. She quickly got a hold of herself.

"He's a Vulcan, so it's apparently okay for him a prick," she mentioned.

"It's still no excuse for being rude," he asserted.

She shook her head. "Perhaps." Spotting the rank on his uniform, she looked up at him. "Are you the new CMO?"

"It looks like it," he said tiredly, trying not to think of Jim or Spock.

"Well, hello then!" She stuck out a hand and he shook it. "I'm your Head Nurse, Julia Granger."

"Leonard McCoy," he said warmly. At that moment a young man stuck his head into the room.

"Nurse, has the new-? Oh! Hello," the man walked smoothly towards them. "Are you Leonard McCoy?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," the man said. "I'm Elias Mason, AMO."

The three of them chatted for a little bit. Granger was very optimistic and spunky, while Mason was knowledgeable and agreeable. They were a more upbeat contrast to Chapel and M'Benga, who had steel wills and quiet manners. McCoy fought off the pang in his heart.

Mason showed him around Sickbay. Most of the layout was the same, with a few exceptions. The biggest one was a lab branching off from the complex that contained a massive tank of water.

"Well, this isn't something you see every day," McCoy commented, stepping over to it. It was waist-high and took up most of the center of the room. Water was held in place by a small force field along the top.

"We use it for studying aquatic specimens," Mason offered. "We emptied it of life and notable chemicals for this new mission; that way we have a blank slate to adjust to a creature's needs. Who knows what we might find on the planets in the Neutral Zone."

"Yes," McCoy murmured quietly, gazing into the water. "Who knows."

* * *

_Dr. Carter's way too happy,_ Christine Chapel decided. _Well, not happy, exactly. Cheerful. He's way too cheerful_. After being used to McCoy's bluntness and 'okay, let's get back to work but I'm happy, too' attitude, the eager new doctor seemed far too lively for her taste. Briefly, she considered injecting him with a depressant just to get him to slow down.

She had to admit, though, that he worked just as hard as McCoy. After settling in, the doctor buried himself in a project. The nearest she could figure out was that it concerned a filtering method to purify toxic atmospheres. When coupled with a mask, it could allow one to breathe poisons.

They entered the Neutral Zone a few days ago. So far, everything was uneventful. The nearest planet would still take a few days to reach, since they weren't allowed to travel faster than warp 5, and Captain Kirk was playing the first-time-exploring-in-enemy-territory safe and kept the ship at warp 3.

Chapel snapped out of her musings when M'Benga entered the room. "Good morning, Doctor," she greeted.

"Hello," he replied. Chapel glanced behind him but saw nothing. "Where's Dr. Carter?"

"He's already in the chemical lab. I passed by on my way over and stopped to check in." M'Benga frowned. "It was sealed, though. When I commed he answered that he was conducting application tests and that the other sealant chambers were either occupied or being worked on, and that he was seeing if his mechanism could survive whatever nasty chemicals were thrown its way."

Chapel shook her head. "Did he at least have a safe suit on?"

M'Benga shrugged. "Couldn't see. He must have, though, if he was gassing the whole room with him in it."

"Yeah…" Unconsciously, she chewed her lip. Normally, whenever McCoy had a project, she was helping him. Sometimes Mr. Spock would be there as well, in which case she always volunteered her services. Now, however, Dr. Carter seemed immersed into a world all his own; untouchable. The isolation kind of hurt.

She chastised herself and shook out of the brooding. "Let's see about those Cartolone tests," she said, back to business.

* * *

_"M- me, sir?" he squeaked. _

_ "It has to be you, Allan," the captain said._

_ He gulped nervously. "But I'm hardly qualified for such a demanding- and dubious- task…"_

_ Saolos stepped closer. "If this is to work," he droned. "Then a person must have access to places he would not normally have access to. We cannot replace the captain. It is impossible. But there is one position which grants supreme access."_

_ "The Chief Medical Officer," he said weakly._

_ The captain nodded. "The medical override can get you anywhere." He turned to Saolos. "Inform him of everything he needs to do."_

_ "Of course," Saolos said smoothly; dangerously._

_ The captain eyed him seriously. "You _do_ want to go along with this, don't you?"_

_ He gulped again. "Captain, I want to save lives," he said. "I feel that the pact is wrong. But, if there is another way-"_

_ "If there is another way, would you please enlighten us?" the captain snapped. He sighed and reigned in his temper. The he placed his hands on both of his shoulders. "I don't like having to do this anymore than you do. But it must happen if we are to save thousands of unnecessary deaths in the long run. Think of the future, Allan. Do you want the future to be riddled with war?"_

_ "No," he said firmly, some resolve seeping back into his veins._

_ "And this will put an end to that risk," the captain said._

_ He eyed him right back and drew himself up to his full height. "Alright, I'll do it. But you _will_ beam me out before everything hits the fan, right?"_

_ "We'll try," Saolos said dryly._

_ The captain shot him an icy glare. "We will," he promised. "But you've got to come through for us."_

_ "I will," he said._

Allan Carter worked harder.

* * *

_"Hey, Jim."_

"Hey, Bones," Kirk said to the computer terminal. The 'day' was winding down and he and McCoy were communicating via live link like they did every night since his transfer. While the _Justice_ was far away on the other end of the Neutral Zone, the _Enterprise_ and _Apache_ were still close enough for live transmissions.

Kirk was tired. Everyone was still slightly on edge because it was the Neutral Zone, so he didn't have many opportunities to unwind. Normally he could just talk to Bones. But now, the only chance to do that was when they were both off-shift and in their quarters. They also had to make sure there was no interference blocking the signals.

"How was your day?" he asked, to start off a conversation- any conversation.

"_It was good_," McCoy said vaguely. He frowned. _"Jim, you look tired."_

"Oh, it's nothing, just a long shift," he waved.

McCoy still eyed him. _"In the Neutral Zone. You doubled, again, didn't you?"_

Idly Kirk marveled at how, even light years away, McCoy could still read him like a book. "We have to be alert and ready for anything, Bones," he insisted.

_"Mm-hm. Right now, you're alert for nothing."_ McCoy leaned forward. _"And if you keep pulling double shifts you're going to be dead tired when a real crisis comes up. Save your strength for when you know something interesting is going to happen; like when you reach that planet you're heading for."_

"Okay, Bones." Kirk gave a weak smile. "Thanks for the advice, Doctor."

McCoy snorted. _"I'm not you doctor anymore, Jim. This is coming from your friend."_ McCoy paused and looked down, tapping his fingers for a moment. Finally, he asked, _"How's Spock?"_

Kirk resisted the urge to sigh. This felt too fake. Chatting about their days, starting off conversations with a 'how ya doin'?'… he'd never been good at long-distance relationships. He and Bones could talk about anything. And Spock…

Though the Vulcan wouldn't admit it, Kirk knew he missed their banter. Dr. Carter, while friendly, wasn't exactly social. Spock instead buried himself in his work; the upkeep of the ship.

"He's alright," Kirk said. "Staying busy. Every scanner, every sensor, and every tricorder must be in tip-top condition when we reach Vialis."

Instead of the chuckle Kirk was hoping for, McCoy frowned. _"Jim, what was the name of that planet you're going to again?"_

"Vialis," Kirk said, slightly confused. "Why?"

McCoy leaned back on the screen, his brow furrowing. _"That's the name of the planet we're heading for."_

* * *

**Being the first conspiracy that I've ever written, reviews are very much appreciated so that I can get an idea of whether or not I'm achieving what I want. Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Suspicions

**A/N: Howdy, y'all! Thanks for the reviews! They really provide support (did I mention conspiracies are hard to write? I'm in constant fear of having it become blatantly obvious). Sorry I haven't updated in a few days, I've been seriously addicted to this story called 'Blindsight' by Peter Watts. OH MY GOSH IT'S SO AMAZING! The whole story is on rifters (which has a com at then end, after a dot) . AHHH! You want spaceships, aliens, genetic engineering, AI, robots, neuroscience, multiple personalities, consciousness, mental disorders, sentience, life/death stuff, heck VAMPIRES... it's got it ALL! df;aipadklfjo!'! (fangirls and dies).**

**So yeah. That's why I've been a bit slow in writing this. But here it is now!**

* * *

It was before Alpha Shift the next morning that McCoy was determined to track down Captain Brahms. Jim had relayed how those were the orders from Starfleet for the _Enterprise_ to travel to Vialis, and McCoy believed him. He was _Jim_. But he'd only heard second-hand at the briefing that the _Apache_ was going to Vialis. Now, he wanted to see the orders.

Brahms wasn't in his quarters, and he wasn't on the bridge yet. Not finding him in the mess hall, McCoy gave up running all over the ship and used the computer to locate the captain. He was in conference room 2.

Grumbling to himself, he set off through the ship again, this time using a bunch of connecting rooms. It was faster, and less crowded than the halls. As he approached conference room from the secondary door, he slowed. The walls were thinner in the interior of the ship, so sounds drifted out despite the closed door. McCoy slipped closer, avoiding the sensor that opened the doors. Feeling only slightly guilty, he put his ear to the wall.

"I tell you, Admiral, everything's still going smoothly. It's only a matter of days, now." There was a pause. McCoy pressed closer, but couldn't catch more than faint rumblings. "Well, on _this_ end, everything's set. We have no secure way of checking on Allan's progress."

Allan? Allan who? He knew about a dozen Allans. There was Allan Davis, Allan Carter on the _Enterprise_, Allan March, captain of the _Justice_, Allan Beringer, this man he knew at the Academy… And Allan could also be a last name.

"Don't worry, Epnek's assured us dozens of times that he swing it on his side if you can swing it on yours." Brahms' voice grew stern. "And you can, can't you? You promised, Admiral, I don't want anyone to get court-martialed for this."

McCoy couldn't catch the answer. But this was downright strange. Admiral who? He closed his eyes. He might be able to get a quick glimpse…

In a flash he was inside the door. "Oh, Captain, I was wondering why-"

The computer screen snapped off and inwardly McCoy cursed. He wasn't able to catch more than a streak of yellow. Brahms swiveled and faced him. "Yes?" he said, a touch of irritation in his voice.

McCoy realized he had stopped speaking. "Oh. I was wondering why we're heading to Vialis."

Brahms furrowed his brow in confusion. "Weren't you at the briefing? We're going to Vialis for a topographical survey of its properties and to study the plant and mineral-"

"I know all that," McCoy said, aware that he was interrupting. "It's just that, a starship is capable of surveying a planet all on its lonesome, correct?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

McCoy crossed his arms. "So why is Starfleet Command sending two ships to the same planet?"

"To Vialis?" he asked sharply. "What other ship?"

"The _Enterprise_."

Brahms frowned. "I am unsure. I'll have a talk with Captain Kirk, and between us we'll sort out just what Command wants us to do." He eyed McCoy, some of his earlier geniality seeping back into his features. "Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Doctor, though I won't ask how you learned of it."

McCoy huffed. "Nothing spectacular about it, anyway." He checked his watch. "Well, unless you have any orders, Captain, I've got to get to Sickbay."

"Of course. I need to start heading up to the bridge, myself." Brahms smiled.

When McCoy was gone from the room he reached over and switched the monitor back on. "You still there?"

"Of course," the admiral said irritably. "What was all that for?"

Brahms glanced back over his shoulder, making sure the room was still empty. "We might have a slight problem."

* * *

"It still feels empty," Uhura lamented in the mess hall.

"Aye," Scotty agreed, sipping his drink. "I kno' the bridge doesna feel the same."

She laughed darkly. "You're right. I suppose it's a good thing you stay in Engineering most of the time. Dr. Carter's nice and all, but he's rarely if ever on the bridge."

"Aye. The laddies say he never leaves the lab." Scotty drank more of his coffee.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Uhura mused, looking idly over the tables. "He's sitting over there."

Sure enough, on the other end of the mess hall Dr. Carter was digging into some scrambled eggs.

"Well," Scotty said, rising. "At least he's not verrae overbearing or somthin' like that. Now, I've got t'get back t'Engineering an' keep 'er in shape for today."

Uhura chuckled. "Alright, Scotty. See you later."

"Bye, lass."

He finished his drink and disposed of his tray. Alpha shift in Engineering was normally very busy, after things degraded during the night shift (or so Scotty thought, but he was a perfectionist).

"Oi! Williams, come an' help me with the directional tightenings down 'ere," he called. The ship had to be in peak condition for the Neutral Zone.

"Certainly, Mr. Scott!" Williams jumped down and joined him. "Sir, are you okay?"

Scotty frowned. "Of course I am. Why wouldna I be?"

Williams approached him cautiously. "It's just, you're very red in the face."

"I am?" Scotty sought out a reflective surface.

"Do you feel alright?" he asked.

"Now tha' you mention it, I'm a little woozy." Scotty took two steps forward-

-and doubled over onto the floor.

"Commander!" Williams shouted, diving after him. Someone else commed Sickbay, requesting an emergency medical team.

Williams rolled Scotty over. The man was barely conscious and clutching his midsection. His breaths were short and fast.

When M'Benga and Chapel rushed in moments later, he was completely unconscious.

* * *

Kirk had a headache the size of Mars when he returned to his quarters at the end of the day. Scotty's close call had been nerve-racking enough, and though he was expected to recover it just made Bones' absence starker.

The disturbing thing about it was that it was a foreign substance that caused the reaction. Kirk was unaware of Scotty's allergies to anything, but he'd simply had for breakfast what he always had, according to Uhura. There was nothing new or unusual on his plate.

His computer terminal beeped with an incoming message. _Right on time_, Kirk thought. He answered it.

"How are you doing, Bones?"

_"Peachy,"_ came the dry reply.

"Did you look into that destination error?" he asked.

McCoy frowned. _"Captain Brahms said he would look into it."_ He didn't mention that Kirk's question implied that Brahms had _not_ contacted him and sorted things out. _"How's everything on your front?"_

"There was a little incident this morning. Scotty reacted to something."

_"What?!"_ McCoy leaned forward and gripped the desk. _"Something… requiring medical attention?"_

Kirk nodded. "He's on a three-day medical leave in Sickbay."

McCoy whistled. _"Must have been some reaction. Good luck to Carter in keeping him there…"_ he trailed off.

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

McCoy shook out of his musings. _"I'm not sure, Jim,"_ he said thoughtfully. _"Just what did Scotty react to?"_

"Some foreign substance."

Kirk could see McCoy's eyes narrow. _"That's all? Dr. Carter didn't happen to mention just what _kind _of foreign substance?"_

Kirk stroked his chin. "No, he's still investigating that… is everything okay, Bones?"

McCoy had suddenly begun to check around his computer terminal and the software. He looked back at Jim. _"Maybe, maybe not. I've got to go, but Jim."_ The tone on his name made Kirk sit up straighter. McCoy looked at him seriously.

_"Watch your back."_

* * *

McCoy cut the transmission right away and watched the screen die. Then he walked swiftly across the room and commed the bridge. "Lt. Paladin," he said to the communications officer on duty. "Can you tell me who was monitoring my private message?"

There was a sound of surprise and a 'one moment, please'. McCoy waited. Finally, after sifting through signals, Paladin replied.

"I can't tell you who, Doctor, but the tap was coming from conference room 2. Likely the computer terminal there."

"Thank you," McCoy said, then rushed out.

This late in the evening, the ship was winding down. He passed no one on his way to the conference room. Not bothering to knock, he burst inside.

It was empty.

McCoy took a step forward, keeping quiet. The computer was turned off, but still warm, he realized as he pressed a hand to it. He didn't expect to find any fingerprints, however. In the age of voice technology, you didn't need to touch a computer anymore to give it commands.

Warily, he eyed the other door that he had come through just that morning. The whole place seemed eerily silent. One step, and then another. Taking a breath, he walked briskly through, the sensor opening the door.

The lab beyond was empty.

McCoy peered around, but being a lesser-used facility it had been shut down for the night. Liking the overall situation less and less, he backed out of the lab.

After the doors had closed, two beings breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

Spock was preparing for an evening's meditation when his door buzzed. This was unusual. He rarely had late-hour visitors. Curious (but denying that he felt as such) he walked over and permitted the door to open.

Dr. M'Benga and Nurse Chapel were on the other side.

"Mr. Spock, can we have a private word with you?" M'Benga said in a low voice. There was a sense of urgency about them.

"You may," Spock said, stepping aside to let them in. The doors shut behind them. Spock folded his hands behind his back.

"Mr. Spock, it's about Scott's condition," Nurse Chapel began.

"Is he relapsing?" he inquired.

"No," M'Began assured him. "No, he's expected to make a complete recovery, provided he sticks to that bed rest." The doctor frowned. "It's just that, the surgery was… odd."

"Odd?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Spock, when we first arrived, Mr. Scott was having difficulty breathing, losing consciousness, and most of all, clutching his midriff. Preliminary scans showed it was something abdominal," Chapel explained. "That had gotten into the bloodstream. When we got him back to Sickbay where Dr. Carter had been prepping for surgery, he did it… differently."

Something in the way she said made Spock note that the 'difference' was more than just one doctor's style of operating. "Go on."

"Scans showed that a foreign substance, as yet unidentified, had gotten into his bloodstream and was causing the unconsciousness and respiratory problems," M'Benga took over. "With this information, we should be looking at something he ate or otherwise ingested to fix the problem."

_Logical_, Spock thought.

"However, when we started working, Dr. Carter was checking out the esophagus and brain _first_."

"Even after we informed him of the symptoms and our opinions," Chapel added.

"He waited to actually fix the problem, Mr. Spock," M'Benga said.

Spock thought briefly. "Could it be he was simply being thorough?"

Chapel hesitated, but shook her head. "I don't think so, Spock. Because here's the weird thing: the equipment needed to pump Scotty's system was already _out_. The reason M'Benga and I rushed to scene was because Carter was preparing for surgery. Mr. Spock, _how did he know_ that we would need a particular type of surgery done before any information about Scotty's condition came in?"

Both of Spock's eyebrows went up as he saw what they were saying. "I see," he said quietly. "And, the other examinations?"

"Honestly, Mr. Spock," M'Benga said. "I feel that those were, well, almost _stalling_ tactics. He scanned the brain and throat and tried a few other tests instead of the most likely course of action- which would be to identify the substance and flush it out. Why wait to do that? Like Chapel said, he already had the tools out to do it."

Spock considered all of this. On the one hand, he trusted Chapel's and M'Benga's inputs explicitly. On the other, there was nowhere on Carter's record that would imply him to be incompetent. Yet he didn't seem like the type of person to be deliberately malicious.

He noticed the two medical personal exchanging glances.

"There's one more thing, Mr. Spock," Chapel said hesitantly. He waited for her to continue.

"We actually know what that 'foreign substance' is." She paused.

"It was Axolin," M'Benga said quietly.

Spock raised his eyebrows even further. Mr. Scott had been poisoned.

* * *

**Oh no! What terribleness is this!? What will happen next? Please review and stay tuned!**


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